


Surroundings

by aperture_living



Category: Naruto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 18:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aperture_living/pseuds/aperture_living
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasuke had torn around the corner at the word that his brother had returned from one of his missions, all barely-contained excitement and animated expressions. Coated in a fine layer of childish dirt and sweat, scraped palms and bruised knees, he looked up at Itachi with all the enthrallment of a child waiting for a field trip: anticipation, wonder, and appreciation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surroundings

**Author's Note:**

> Another old fic I wrote that I still actually like. Some minor NaruSasu if you squint.

“What’s this?”

Sasuke had torn around the corner at the word that his brother had returned from one of his missions, all barely-contained excitement and animated expressions. Coated in a fine layer of childish dirt and sweat, scraped palms and bruised knees, he looked up at Itachi with all the enthrallment of a child waiting for a field trip: anticipation, wonder, and appreciation. The stories were a gift unto themselves, not of the mission itself (that was usually some level of confidential) but of the other lands out there, the other villages and what they looked like, how they functioned. 

Their time for stories was always short, limited to minutes really before Itachi was pulled off in some direction for debriefing or low-talks with their father. Sasuke soaked up what he could, would picture the places with a boy’s wild imagination, and waited for the moments before bed when Itachi would sneak in and tell him a few more facts about culture and customs these places harbored. 

It was at these moments that Sasuke was the most excited, if only because Itachi would sometimes (seldom, but sometimes) bring a gift from these foreign places. Tonight, it was a weighted globe, a heavy sphere that when turned upside down, sent small pieces of white fluttering. Sasuke shook it intensely, so intensely that he didn’t see Fugaku from the shadows of the doorway, watching, before melting back and away under Itachi’s even stare. 

“A snowglobe,” he answered. “I thought it only fitting that you receive that upon my trip to the Land of Snow.”

Sasuke’s lips pursed as he tousled it again. “Couldn’t you have brought me a kunai or a sword from there? Something cool like that?”

Itachi’s lips curled into a half-hidden smile, his hand in the short dark hair of his sibling, rudeness ignored. “A sharpened blade is not that much different where it is made, but only by the hands that make it. Sometimes, the greatest gift is to simply understand what it is around you.”

Sasuke had carried those words for years, even if he didn’t adhere to them in the best of the times. He had been a child then, had been ignorant in his bliss, hadn’t known that betrayal could come in any form. He hadn’t known, and he had paid the price. 

Orochimaru laid down a mission, some piece of information gathering, and silently, Sasuke accepted. It was getting closer to the holidays, and though it was a foolish sentiment in his mind, it made him restless, antsy; getting out and moving would do him good. An occupied mind rarely had time to wander.

He wasn’t surprised when his path led him towards familiar territory. In the distance, he saw The Valley of the End loom, a landmark that he happened past just on chance, and on a whim, a ridiculous folly whim, he made his way to the top. His mind was clouded, his resolve solid but time was slow; he wasn’t strong enough, and things weren’t going as quickly as he wished. Coupled with some frequent and almost fond dreams of his brother (another affect of the holiday, he swore), he wanted the moments of quiet, of solitude in a place that had its significance for him. It was, after all, only fitting.

When he crested to the top, he walked to the edge, the roar of the water a strained shout from this height. It smelled clean here, fresh, ne—

Sasuke’s foot struck something as he walked, and stumbling, he looked down to see what he had kicked. Boxes sat, just a few, just a handful, painfully and awkwardly wrapped (if you could call it that) in cheap paper whose color was faded by the elements over the various years. Three sat total, lonely, left as some offering, and even though Sasuke knew who they were from, he checked the tag anyway.

_To: ~~idiot~~ Sasuke_

_From: ~~the best ninja~~ ever Naruto_

That was the first tag, and the quietly, he sat, slowly unpeeling the mounds of tape (was there any tape left in Konoha, or did it all go to this box) to peek inside. He was unsurprised to find a picture frame inside, the (mostly) smiling faces of Team 7 staring back at him. Another life. A different Sasuke.

“Hm.”

_To: ~~The most frustrating jerk ever~~ Sasuke_

_From: ~~Your patiently waiting superior~~ Naruto_

The second box was wrapped as poorly as the first, this time with a lopsided ribbon that was half undone and frayed about the edges. Wriggling it off to the corners, he freed the box from its confines and looked down at the hitai-ite beneath. Picking it up, he turned it over and raised an eyebrow, wondering how Naruto was able to get a brand new one, one without a scratch etched through the middle.

Dropping both back to the ground, he moved on to the third and final.

_To: ~~My best friend~~ Sasuke_

_From: ~~The idiot that misses you~~ Naruto_

The wrapping hadn’t changed, but the paper was new, clean, maybe only a few days old. Tape was still scattered in places that needed none, and the corners were wrinkled blobs that were somehow lopsided. Sighing, he pulled open the pieces, opening to the white box beneath. 

Nestled comfortably, carefully, was a snowglobe. 

_Sometimes, the greatest gift is to simply understand what it is around you._

Sasuke raised the bauble, watching as the snow slid restlessly along the bottom, swishing around the foundation of miniature houses. As he watched, carefully crafted little people from the Land of Snow stared back, frozen in smiles. He tipped it upside down, watching the white-out ensue before it settled once again. 

He thought of Itachi’s face, that guarded grin as he told him stories of far off lands. He thought of Naruto when they had all gone out for ramen together, him silently eating while the blonde rattled off hours of pointless talking. He thought of his mother, his father. 

He thought of his brother in the dead of night, an order of hate and death on his lips. 

Sasuke looked at the sun, knew he had spent more time here than he had felt comfortable or wanted; he did have a mission to attend to, after all. Without much thought, one by one, he kicked the gifts and their boxes off the edge of the cliff, watching them tumble end over end before the water rushed up to meet them and pull them under. 

All except for the snowglobe, which he put in his cloak’s folds as he turned and walked away.


End file.
